


Moonlight

by sfiddy



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Devotion, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Kink, Power Exchange, Service, Victory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sfiddy/pseuds/sfiddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my Rumbelle Secret Santa gift for keenquing.  Rumplestiltskin returns victorious from Neverland, but at a high price.  Belle has to find a cure or could lose him to pain forever.  She might have a way, but she'll have to be very, VERY thorough.</p><p>prompt: I'll cover you in moonlight.</p><p>very mildly kinky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keenquing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keenquing/gifts).



He’d fought and won, but the cost was more than Belle could fathom. She’d seen the broken bodies of menwhen they came from the front lines and she thought she’d seen the damage that magic could inflict. However, she could not comprehend the way opposing magics seemed to fuse and become something entirely more dangerous, able to turn inward rather than outward, radiating damage from within the victim.

At every movement and touch, Rumplestiltskin winced as though pricked by his own spinning needle. Everything felt too hot, or too cold, and too rough, the magic seemingly burning his skin from the inside. Whale was called and summarily thrown out when he proposed a foul smelling paste to numb the skin. She suggested Regina, but the painful laugh and spiteful words were unlikely to evolve into consent. Besides, he said, more magic could only make it worse. He refused painkillers, unwilling to compromise his clarity just for pain relief.

“So what am I supposed to do, Rumple? I can’t let you live in pain!”

He lay in their bed, tolerant only of a single silk sheet, spread eagled so no part of his body touched another. It was the only way he could rest. “You’re smart. You’ll think of something.”

“I don’t know how to fix magic.” She said, misery causing her voice to catch and scrape against his sensitized eardrums. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You found the box. You’ll find a way.”

She fed him lukewarm broth one spoonful at a time and sat awake through the night. In the days that passed since the return from Neverland, Rumplestiltskin’s spectacular victory and the unholy aftermath, Belle had taken to watching over him as he rested (or tried to) and measured his labored breathing. He could walk around slowly and wear soft clothes for a few hours, but could not stand sunlight on his skin nor heat of any kind near him.

He could not tolerate her touch. He tried, but Belle refused to subject him to any pain, no matter how much she needed him.

The window seat of their room was as far as she dared be away from him while he slept, and she flicked on the reading light, angled away from him for sometimes even it was too much, and settled in with her book. Words jumbled on the page and she re-read the same paragraph until the shapes no longer made sense.

Exhaustion crumpled her will and she slumped against the window, cool against her forehead and side, and turned off the light. She could doze here, cool on one side, warm on the other, and not disturb Rumple’s rare rest. Her eyes fell open and she gazed up at the moon, nearly full and bright enough to read by.

And snapped fully awake.

…

Two days. It was two days until they could try. She could hardly sit still.

“Do you think it will work?”

He sighed and nibbled at soggy toast only to discard it in his saucer. “It might. It will certainly hurt less than Whale grinding that slime into me.” He sat back, frowning when his back touched the wood of the chair. “But we’ll have to be very careful. If magic has, indeed, burned me internally, then…” He hesitated.

“Then we have to make sure you get healed everywhere.”

Rumplestiltskin’s smirk was tired but wicked as she remembered. “Well, it’s a good thing I had a new privacy fence installed, isn’t it?”

…

On the night, Belle led Rumplestiltskin out into his manicured back garden where she’d spent the day setting up. There was a table with soft foods by the chairs, water, warm (not hot) tea, large pillows, and a large roll-out camping mattress. She’d gotten several strange looks for from the delivery boys when they unrolled it in the garden for her. It was covered in another one of Rumple’s silk sheets so his ragged nerve endings wouldn’t be frazzled by the flocking on the surface. It was only an inch or two thick, so he wouldn’t be jostled when she sat with him.

“You didn’t have to do this, Belle.” He ground out between clenched teeth. “I could manage.”

“No, you can’t. Besides, I can’t watch you suffer anymore. If this doesn’t work I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She held his arm as they walked under the bower of thin-trunked trees that bent together, forming an arch leading to the garden walk. It was only a few more steps until they were out from under the shade of their dark foliage.

Belle stepped out first, holding his hand and clearing the path so he would not trip or slide. Sorcerer or no, cane tips were not impervious to wet leaves, and he was off balance from pain. 

“Take my hands. Step into the moonlight.” The full moon blazed above, casting shadows with cool light. She stood just outside the covered path, no more than ten feet from the clearing she had prepared. He hung his cane over his arm and nervously reached forward, grasping her hands. “You can do this, Rumple.”

“I believe in you, Belle.” He took a limping step forward, letting Belle expose his hands to the bright moonlight. Belle watched as his skin drank up the illumination with a faint hiss and sent forth wisps of delicate steam that caught the silver beams, dissipating into the night time mists.

He sighed. Relief painted his face as he stood still, flexing restless hands that had been held stiff for days as the fire raged under his skin. 

“It’s working! Rumple, it’s working!” She kept her hold on one arm as she pushed back the sleeve of his robe. “Step forward? You can do it!” 

Rumplestiltskin, the greatest sorcerer of the realms, heaved his tender flesh another few inches over the flagstones and sighed again. A louder hiss heralded the extinguishing of another section of the magical wildfire under his skin. 

“Come on. Let’s do this properly.” She handed him his cane and helped him to the mattress. 

“Slowly, Belle.” He gasped. “It’s… it’s a lot to feel at once.”

Not wanting him to collapse, she helped him to lie down on the mattress and pulled off the slippers and laid aside the cane. She took his hands and massaged them, knowing the power that flowed through them and from the look on his face, the incredible feel of having his senses unimpaired again. She pushed both sleeves up now and watched the vapor rise, his brow relaxing for only a moment until the sting elsewhere again caught his attention.

“Ready?” She asked, as she untied his sash. “One side first?”

“Ready.” He lifted a shoulder and slid the robe off one arm as Belle tucked back the rest. His entire chest crackled with energy and a fog of vanquished magic surrounded them. She placed her palms gently on his chest and massaged until he pushed her hand away. “Other side.”

Careful to expose only his torso, she pulled the rest away. He exhaled loudly, groaning with the release of so much dark energy. “Need a break?” 

“No.” He whispered. “Want to finish, need your help.”

“Okay. Back or front next?”

“Back.”

Holding his shoulders, Belle helped Rumplestiltskin roll over. Once the moonlight struck any part of him, the sound became louder and steam rose as it did off hot springs. The amount of curling vapor seemed indicative of the level of pain it had caused him, so when his back spewed forth seemingly never ending fractals of smoke, Belle could not hide her anguish.

“Oh, Rumple. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not.” He choked out. “Henry’s home, Bae is safe, and you’re here with me. I could not have planned it better.”

Seeing that the rise of steam slowed, Belle began to run her hands over his back. “You could have managed to not capture this curse under your skin.”

He arched slightly beneath her hands. “It was a small price to pay. Ah, but I have a smart woman who can chase away even the fire of the sun.” He raised his arms as she nudged him around, guiding his movements to let more moonlight touch him, inch by inch. She leaned his head to one side, then the other, so that every fold of skin was touched and released from pain. When she was satisfied that his front and back were alright, she went to his legs. 

“One, then the other?”

“Yes.” He tensed.

She pulled the robe up and to the side, and again the steam hissed and rose. She bent his knee, rubbed his foot, and spread his toes to let the light find every crack. It would not do to have a burning spot that might have to wait for the next full moon. She did the other side, then crawled along the ground to kiss his calmed back. He let out a rumbling breath, brow still creased but far less deeply than before.

The robe covered only his rear now. Belle slid a finger lightly under the slip of fabric and ran it over his skin. “Now?”

“Now.”

She lifted it away and helped him to spread his legs. The curves of muscle twitched as the fire was extinguished here, too. He was spare but not pinched, perhaps a bit thinner than she liked from his journey and the scorching aftermath. A few burgers and her care would soon put that to rights. She watched the steam rise, and drew in a breath.

“Rumple, I have to… um…”

“I know. Please.”

She waited until the hissing stopped, then she palmed his body, nudging his legs wider. He obliged, and wisps of smoke curled from between his legs. She rolled the muscles of his buttocks in her hands to sooth them, then lifted and spread his cheeks until she saw the deepest crevices of him exposed to the light.

He let out a groan with a new edge. “Belle-“

“Roll over, Rumple.” Keeping a careful hold on the robe, not letting the light touch too much at once, Belle kept his hips and groin carefully under the fabric. 

It had been a long trip. She wanted to cleave to this moment with him, still and steaming under her hands. He waited, quivering in the moonlight, waiting for her to heal him as he’d once healed her.

She moved the robe an inch. This time the hiss came from his lips, not just his skin. His hip on one side was finally exposed, then the other side. Only his groin remained covered by the robe, his most sensitive places needing the utmost care.

He picked his head up. “Belle, what-“

“Shh, Rumple. I’m going to cover you in moonlight.”

He closed his eyes with a soft moan. “Belle, the burn.”

Belle pushed the cloth away until the first inch of curling hair was exposed. She swirled her fingers through it, making sure nothing was shaded for long. Cautiously, she let more of the robe fall away. The base of his sex was showing and it lay to one side, letting off more steam than such a relatively small body part had any right to. Using the already healed skin to move him, she let the moonbeams lick over him as she pulled more and more of the robe away.

When he lay fully naked, blanketed by moonlight, chest heaving, she pushed his knees far apart, leaving him at once vulnerable and better positioned to feel the relief of the cool rays. Belle sat between his legs and raised one to drape her shoulder. “Relax.” She told him, seeing his hands dancing patterns across his chest, nothing to hold or grab. She stilled his hands by his side and with the lightest touch she could manage, the one she used when she cleaned his collection of dragon silk tapestries, she held his cock and lifted it to allow the light access. His scrotum was lifted as well, and she allowed not one crease to go without scrutiny.

It had been a long trip. She would not wait another month.

She held his shaft, now beginning to thicken, in her hand and drew the skin over the core. “Feeling better?”

He managed to exhale a response, the words lost in the rush of breath as she stroked him. She set his leg down and lifted the other, giving more attention to her task for the moment and making certain she was done before moving on.

When his chest rose and fell without catch or constriction, she set his leg down again. “Can you feel any more?”

“Yes.” He leaned his head back, grinding into the pillow.

“Where?” 

He sat up cautiously, and gingerly touched his head. “My head.”

She scolded herself. His hair was blocking the moonlight and she had forgotten. She scooted by his head and lifted his hair. Tiny wisps rose from his scalp and he contentedly caressed her leg, then lay his head on her thigh. She spread her legs.

“Turn.” Rumplestiltskin rolled to his side and tucked a hand under her skirt. Belle sighed as she felt his touch gliding over her skin, mirroring the care she’d given him.

“Belle, I’m so sorry. You must have been so worried about me.” His fingers moved higher, drifting closer to her. Belle continued to lift sections of hair, separating strands and allowing the moonlight to touch every place hidden by his long hair. His body undulated between her legs as she caressed him, wiping the burn away. 

“We’re safe. You did what you set out to do.” She finished by folding his ear forward, careful not to forget anything again. He lifted her skirt and lovingly drew a hand over her hip, hugging her leg. Belle finished with the side. “Turn.”

He rolled and lay on the thigh he’d bared as Belle continued working, sending up curls of smoke that barely drifted a few inches away before dissipating. There were wide streaks of silver in his hair now, more than when he’d left. Was it because Neverland had been such a strain, or had time been different, passing more quickly for him than her? 

“It was a burden for you.” He pushed the other side of her skirt up and put his nose and lips against her, rubbing the soft skin merely inches away from her sex with his face while the top of his head rested in her lap. 

He shifted to lay face down, his naked skin catching the thin moonlight and reflecting back softer, warmer platinum. He nudged his forehead into her middle as she worked, toying with the wrinkled fabric of her skirt, tugging until it was completely bunched around her waist. His breath between her legs warmed her and sent tingles traveling up her neck where the evening chill was settling. 

Finally, when she was certain his entire scalp was done, she leaned over and kissed his back. The tension was finally gone from his limbs and he lay boneless between her legs. Belle tugged his arms and pushed him gently until he rolled over, propped on the pillows.

Deep, loose breaths filled his chest, nothing like the thin gasps he’d drawn for days. He was less sunken without the strain, but his hair was still shot with more silver than before, glinting in the moonlight. 

She stripped her clothes off. It had been a long trip.

The streaks of shining silver yielding to her fingers as she combed through it. He leaned into her touch and reached for her, pulling her closer. Her body, slick with anticipation and success, brushed against him. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He murmured, and raised his hands weakly to caress her sides. She kissed his chest and neck, sliding against him, feeling the way he rose to meet her. He gazed up at her, watching her move.

Time and relaxation had softened him, but as she drew herself up again, she felt the ridge. Not wanting to inflict pain on what was probably extremely sensitive after so much hurt, she rode him gently as a breeze, teasing herself as much as him. Veins in his neck rose as his heart thudded in response.

“I missed you, Rumple. I missed us.”

“Too long, Belle. We’ve had to wait too much.” He sat up, pulling her towards him for a kiss. Lips that were barely able to speak before now nipped and held hers. He lay back and watched as she rolled her hips, staying just above him.

“No more waiting.” She said. She leaned forward, leaving behind cool smears on his cock. She licked at his lips, sucking one between hers as her hand sought him, scooting her body to greet him properly for the first time since his return.

The moonlight illuminated the contented, drowsy smile on his face. There was time later for frenzy, thrusting, or wine and sweet laughter. Right now was for him, to celebrate victory, the relief of homecoming, and the banishment of pain. Belle slid forward, letting her breasts sway close to his face in invitation. His palms smoothed up from her hips and cupped her, grazing over her nipples and sending sparks from there to her belly. 

His chest and shoulders, untouchable an hour ago, were firm and steady as she slid back along his cock. When she was ready, she rested herself on him fully, comfortably filled, and traced the faint shadows on his belly, watching him twitch with pleasure rather than pain.

In between ragged breaths and moans, Rumplestiltskin rolled his body upwards, as if trying to crawl closer to her. “Don’t stop, Belle. Don’t stop.”

In no mood to wait either, Belle ground herself softly against him. Endless nights spent in silent vigil while he was gone and frightened watchfulness afterwards melted in the sliver of warm space between them. The voice that could cut down armies and egos alike was humming breathlessly in time to her movements. 

His body began to tighten, whip taut and strained. “Please, Belle.”

She reached between her legs and stroked, racing to meet him. Belle took one final deep breath as he clamped his hands hard on her hips. Unable to breathe, she rode out her gentle climax while Rumple struggled beneath her, writhing and gasping with every pulse of her body until he finally lay still, limp and sated. Belle fell to the side, finally able to hold him and rest.

In the manicured back garden behind the house, cool mist settled on the intertwined bodies lying on twisted silk. Belle was not sure if it was the moonlight or the lovemaking, but it was soon afterwards that the last of the hovering vapor dissipated, leaving only the sweet night air behind. Rumple’s arms, a blanket he’d conjured and spread over them, and the moonbeams were all the cover she wanted.


End file.
